


An Unexpected Diversion

by madridistagoblue



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaFuri Secret Valentine Exchange, Anxiety, Furihata and Akashi are both giant nerds, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Pre-Slash, Real life basketball talk, Self-Doubt, Set between Kuroko's Birthday and Extra Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6735037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madridistagoblue/pseuds/madridistagoblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Furihata can't help but to compare himself unfavorably with Akashi Seijuurou. Akashi is poised and talented, while Furihata is... a nerd. This becomes obvious when Furihata accidentally finds himself spending time with Akashi at Kuroko's apartment -- all because he's too cowardly to say no to his friends. Akashi is completely focused on something that must be important, while Furihata is attempting to stay calm. But what could Akashi possibly be working on in March, when Rakuzan has already finished the school term? And is it possible that Furihata has more in common with Akashi than he realized?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unexpected Diversion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iixDonut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iixDonut/gifts).



> My gift for the lovely and kind iixDonut, who was my Secret Valentine in the AkaFuri Secret Valentine's Exchange. (Many apologies for the delay.) I based this on her prompt: "Furihata finding out that Akashi is one huge dork."
> 
> This fic is set following the Winter Cup, in early March --after the OVA "The Greatest Present," but before Extra Game. The school year in Japan traditionally begins in April, meaning that this story takes place at the end of Akashi and Furihata's first year in high school. I headcanon Rakuzan as a boarding school, so in this fic, Rakuzan has been released from school earlier than many of the other high schools, so that the students may spend some time with their families before returning for the new semester. Seirin, however, is still in session, and their students are preparing for the end of classes.

Furihata Kouki just didn't know how to say no to his friends. Otherwise, he would not have been here, on the doorstep of Kuroko's apartment, knocking on the door with one fist while clenching Kuroko's Japanese literature notebook in the other, and praying that he wasn't disturbing something important. After a few knocks, he stepped back and took a deep breath, trying to stop himself from imagining the various inconveniences he might be causing. What if Kuroko was in the middle of studying for an exam, or he was watching his favorite TV show and Furihata would cause him to miss the most dramatic scene? Maybe Kuroko wasn't even home. Perhaps he was out practicing basketball, and one of his parents or his grandmother would come to the door, see Furihata there, and insist upon calling Kuroko back home before he had finished.

Furihata exhaled slowly. "Relax," he scolded himself under his breath. It was his fear of inconveniencing others which had gotten him into this situation in the first place, after all. The Japanese literature final was not for another week, but Kagami's pleas had sounded so desperate that Furihata simply couldn't say no to his request to return Kuroko's notebook. Sometimes it made Furihata wonder if he held the reputation of being an excellent team player because he truly was a selfless contributor or simply because he was a complete pushover. Of course, Furihata knew that he cared deeply about his teammates -- but he had a hard time believing that his behavior was that altruistic, especially when he felt so nervous about completing any tasks he agreed to take on. How others seemed to be able to put forth efforts with full concentration and without fretting over every possible misstep was a wonder to Furihata. What must it be like to have the confidence of someone as talented as Kagami, or even Kuroko? At the end of the day, _he_ wasn't especially smart or talented. He was just a dork, with a love of books and trains and, yes, basketball, despite not being very good at it. What could he do that was special, after all?

The door squeaked open, and Furihata jolted upright as his mind snapped back into the present.

"Furihata-kun?" Kuroko asked as his familiar small frame and light blue hair appeared in the doorway. "Do you need something?" A hint of confusion colored his normally flat tone.

"Uhh…well," Furihata laughed, gripping the edge of the notebook securely with a tightening hand. "I just came to drop this off." He swung the notebook clumsily from his side towards Kuroko, realizing too late that he had rather rudely shoved it at his friend; but fortunately, Kuroko took the book without any apparent offense.  "Kagami told me after practice that he forgot to give it back to you," Furihata continued, his skill for speed-talking beginning to kick in, "but he couldn't return it himself because he had to rush off to a special practice session with Alex. He wanted to make sure you had it back, so I agreed to drop it off. I probably should’ve texted you that I was coming, but I didn't really think about it, so I really hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Don't worry, you didn't, Furihata-kun," Kuroko reassured him, tucking the notebook casually under his arm. "I have a guest over, but we were simply watching a basketball game on TV. I wasn't in the middle of anything."

"That's a relief," Furihata replied, audibly exhaling. He paused for a moment, looking down and digging the toe of his sneaker into the concrete. "I guess I'll be off now," he said, glancing back up. "Enjoy the rest of the game!"

"Wait, Furihata-kun," Kuroko called, before Furihata even had a chance to turn to leave. "Won't you come in for a while?"

"Oh, n-no," Furihata answered with a nervous chuckle, brushing Kuroko off with a wave of his hand, "you have a guest over. I really shouldn't interrupt."

"Please," Kuroko insisted. "He won't mind. It was very nice of you to agree to bring this over for Kagami-kun," Kuroko continued. "I should provide some hospitality in return."

"You shouldn't go out of the way for me, really," Furihata mumbled, diverting his eyes again. He wasn't sure how to admit to Kuroko that it wasn't all that nice of him, or that he wasn't deserving of such politeness.

"Please, Furihata-kun," Kuroko replied, his voice insistent and determined. His words came across less like a request than a command, exerting the strength that Kuroko often showed in spite of his underwhelming presence. "You look a bit worn. Come in and sit down for a snack, and then you can go"

"Well…" Furihata answered, "I guess a snack sounds okay."

Kuroko opened the door all the way and stood to the side, ushering Furihata into the doorway. Slowly, Furihata bent down and slid off his shoes, sighing quietly. Hadn't he just been thinking that he needed to learn to say no to people? He shook his head. This was a harmless enough offer. He probably could use something to eat, and as soon as he was done he would head straight home.

He stood up and entered the room, his eyes immediately focusing on the television in the corner, which, true to Kuroko's word, was playing a JBL game.  His gaze wandered down from the TV towards the table at the center of the room. Suddenly, he felt his heart slam against his ribcage, as an electric, tingling sensation ran up his back and arms. Kneeling at the table, with eyes so locked in concentration that he hadn't even noticed Furihata enter the room, was Kuroko's guest. Furihata recognized him in an instant -- the bright red hair and focused expression was unmistakably that of Rakuzan's captain, Akashi Seijuurou.

If he had any manners, then Furihata should have said hello to Akashi; it wasn't like they had never met, after all. Instead, he felt his lips tightening as he began to sneak across the floor with light, precise steps, in the hope of remaining invisible for as long as possible.  Cowardly though it was, he had never been more envious of Kuroko's lack of presence then he was now.

It wasn't that he was _afraid_ of Akashi, Furihata told himself. Though, the way his knees were knocking against each other made him feel like a liar for even thinking this. Obviously, Furihata had found Akashi frightening at first, when he had scraped Kagami's cheek with a pair of scissors, and later forced him onto his knees during a pre-game warmup. But Akashi had already apologized profusely for those incidents -- incidents which Furihata now realized had been inappropriate intimidation techniques, rather than attempts to harm anyone in the first place. So no, Furihata thought, inhaling deeply through his nose, holding his breath, and slowly breathing out. He didn't feel out of sorts because Akashi came across as dangerous or malicious. In fact, they had spent the entire night of Kuroko's birthday party talking to one another, and managed to have a relatively pleasant conversation, in spite of Furihata's constant shaking and awkward laughing. To be perfectly honest, Akashi was much kinder than he should have been. For much of the night, Furihata had looked at him like he was some sort of monster, even fainting at the very sight of him, but Akashi never appeared offended or troubled. In fact, he listened to every stupid thing Furihata had blabbed about that night and gave thoughtful responses, as though he honestly cared about every single word. And when the night was over, Akashi had toasted to meeting again in a future game. He must've meant that he wanted to play Seirin again, to claim revenge for his close loss in the Winter Cup. Certainly there was no reason the best high school point guard in Japan would want to play against a bench player whose defining moment in the game had been falling flat on his face. At least, someone like Akashi, who had a sense of pride and competitiveness, would not have found satisfaction in destroying weaklings. Even so, his kind words throughout the night had managed to make Furihata feel increasingly comfortable in a room with all the members of the Generation of Miracles, even if Furihata did a poor job of showing it. However, if Akashi's kindness had made Furihata less terrified around him, it had only made his self-consciousness worse. At least when Akashi had seemed condescending and unstable, the first-year captain, student council president, and top-ranked student of prestigious Rakuzan High appeared to have flaws. The fact that he could be all that and be polite, charming, and gracious to those less talented than him just made Furihata feel inadequate to even grace his presence. Did Akashi even realize how much of a dorky loser Furihata was? Or was he just so perfect that he had a naively empathetic attitude towards everyone?

"Furihata, it's a pleasure to see you again," Akashi called.

Furihata froze in place, his pulse quickening as his head jolted to meet Akashi's gaze. Red eyes locked on to him, with intensity, but also familiarity. 

"A-ah…Hello, Akashi-kun," Furihata replied shyly. "S-sorry to interrupt! You see, Kagami asked me to return Kuroko's notebook to him, and Kuroko asked me to come in for a bit. But, uh, I'm only gonna be here for a little while."

"Please don't feel as though you must rush, Furihata," Akashi replied. "I appreciate your company."

"Thanks…" Furihata mumbled. He wasn't sure how else to respond. He diverted his eyes for a moment, embarrassed by his inability to think of anything else. It wasn't like he didn't want to be friends with Akashi. Whether or not he thought he deserved it, Furihata did want to spend more time around someone so kind and admirable. But if he said one stupid thing, he'd surely blow his chance. So it was better to say nothing at all, right? But it would be far better if he could think of something to say. Akashi was probably staring at him, wondering if he was actually going to speak. Maybe he thought that Furihata was still afraid of him because of those incidents in the past. It wouldn't exactly do to tell Akashi that he actually feared him out of awe and inadequacy.

Mustering his courage, Furihata looked back towards Akashi, prepared to see expectant red eyes staring him down. Instead, he found Akashi completely immersed in a paper on the table, staring at it while tapping the back of a pen lightly against his bottom lip. Furihata felt a chill run through his body as he noted the way Akashi's eyes locked on the task in front of him, as though the rest of the world had vanished from view. It didn't matter what activity Akashi was engaged in, nor did it seem to matter which of his personalities was occupying those eyes at the time. Furihata swore the intensity his Akashi's gaze could intimidate any task into completing itself.

Although Furihata wasn't sure what Akashi was doing, he could tell that it was important. It might have been a homework assignment. Although Rakuzan was currently out of session -- which was probably why Akashi was visiting -- Akashi seemed like the kind of student who would prepare for classes ahead of time. And since Kuroko had told him that Akashi had perfect grades in junior high, Furihata assumed that every school assignment was a pretty big deal for Akashi.  But, it might have been something even more consequential than that. Maybe he was looking at a proposal or a contract for his father's company? He wasn't sure what Akashi's current role for the Akashi Corporation was, but he vaguely knew that his father was training him to take over as CEO, and involved him in some sort of important business that Furihata probably wouldn't understand.

Realizing that he was, once again, being very impolite by staring at Akashi, Furihata turned away from the table and looked for some place to sit down. Noticing an armchair in the corner of the room, he walked over and flopped down in the seat, his legs ungracefully swinging upward as he landed on the seat cushion. He sunk his shoulders and slouched into the fabric, unceremoniously dipping his head back and staring up at the ceiling as he attempted to release all the tension in his joints.

"Furihata-kun," Kuroko called, so suddenly that Furihata jerked back upright in his seat. Despite being fully aware that Kuroko had a habit of appearing out of nowhere, Furihata was never prepared for it to actually happen. Then again, Kagami was the most aware of Kuroko's presence of anyone on Seirin's basketball club, and even he could still be caught so off-guard that he'd jump and yell when Kuroko snuck up on him.

"I made some green tea, if you would like any," Kuroko continued, pointing towards the kitchen. "I would be happy to bring you a cup."

"Oh, you really didn't need to," Furihata replied.

"You're my guest," Kuroko said. "I'm happy to offer it."

Furihata nodded. "Alright," he agreed, catching a waft of the tea's scent as it drifted in from the kitchen. The smell alone was calming, and promised to help him in his attempt to control his nerves. "It does sound delicious. Thank you, Kuroko."

"Would you like a cup too, Akashi-kun?" Kuroko offered, looking down towards the table.

"If it isn't too much trouble," Akashi answered, his eyes still completely focused on the paper in front of him.  "Thank you, Kuroko."

"It's no problem," Kuroko replied, as he walked back to the kitchen to pour the tea. A moment later, he returned with two steaming cups, handing one to Furihata before setting one down on the table at Akashi's side.

"Kuroko -- a question for you," Akashi interjected, as Kuroko placed the cup next to Akashi's all-consuming paper.

"Yes?" Kuroko asked, kneeling down next to him. As he did so, the commentator of the JBL game on TV yelled something in a loud and excitable voice, reminding Furihata that basketball was still on in the background. The atmosphere in the room was so still and serious that the bright lights and highlight reels of the game on TV felt out of place. In fact, Furihata almost felt like he should leave the room, before Akashi and Kuroko struck up some kind of serious conversation that he shouldn't be privy to.

"You have two teams," Akashi began, "one of which specializes in the 2-3 zone, and the other, which has one of the best shooters in the country. Now, as you are aware, one of the greatest weaknesses of the 2-3 zone is that it leaves the perimeter wide open for outside shots. But, the three-point shooter is a first-year player, and has struggled under pressure in some of his games. When this happens, the team relies on its presence in the post, but they may find it difficult to do so against the zone. Who would you pick, in this situation?"

Furihata's eyes widened. Where did this come from? He knew from Kuroko that Akashi took on large responsibilities as the captain of Rakuzan, so it was entirely possible that the work he was focused on was a practice schedule, game plan, or scouting report for the upcoming school year. But that didn't make any sense. If he was working on something for Rakuzan, then why would Akashi share such important and sensitive information with Kuroko -- a member of a rival team?

"It depends," Kuroko replied. "When does the shooter struggle? Does he get nervous under pressure, or does he rise to the occasion? I would want to observe him more, if I was going to make a well-informed decision."

Who, exactly, was this first-year player that they were discussing? Since the school year was nearly over, Furihata assumed that they must mean an incoming player from junior high. But Furihata hadn't heard anything about a great shooting guard, despite the fact that Akashi had referred to him as one of the best shooters in the country. Could he possibly compare to Midorima? Considering that Rakuzan had soundly defeated Shuutoku in the Winter Cup, it seemed strange that Akashi would worry about one good shooting guard. But, then again, Furihata had never seen Rakuzan play a 2-3 zone. Perhaps the zone team was Rakuzan's opponent, and Rakuzan was the team with an incoming star. But, certainly, if the first-year shooter wasn't up for the challenge, Mibuchi could score against the zone. And Rakuzan hardly seemed like a team that relied on its post play in a pinch -- not with a point guard like Akashi. Clearly, neither of the teams Akashi was talking about was actually Rakuzan. Was he talking about possible opponents, then? But that didn't make sense either. There were no tournaments, right now, at the tail end of the school year. 

"Yes, I believe you are right," Akashi replied to Kuroko's analysis with a nod. "I will set that one aside, for now, and collect some more data."

If Furihata didn't know any better, he would have assumed that Akashi and Kuroko were predicting the outcome of a professional basketball game. Perhaps Akashi didn't mean a "first year" in school, but a rookie in the JBL or NBA. But, that seemed unlikely, since Akashi had been so focused on his work up to this point. Was his mind actually so expansive that he could be completely concentrated on a task, while simultaneously thinking about something else for fun? Did Akashi even do things for fun? Every time that Furihata had ever seen him, he seemed so serious. Not that this was a bad thing, necessarily.   It was admirable, in many ways. But it did make Furihata wonder how he could ever possibly understand or relate to Akashi.

Furihata's musings were interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched bark coming from an adjacent room. Kuroko looked down at his watch, and then stood up with a sigh.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking first at Akashi, and then turning to Furihata. "I need to take Nigou outside for a bit, and then feed him. I promise I'll be back as quickly as I can."

"Take your time, Kuroko," Furihata replied. "I understand." He sunk back in the chair and sipped his tea, trying his best to look comfortable, so as not to worry Kuroko. It seemed to work, since Kuroko gave him a small smile, before turning and going after the noisy puppy.

It didn't take long after Kuroko had left the room, however, for Furihata to once again regret being so accommodating. He appreciated Kuroko's hospitality, and the cup of tea was delicious and refreshing, but he needed to be on his way. He had final exams to study for, and couldn't waste his time sitting around here. What if he had to rush through his studies because of this detour, and ended up failing a class because of it? If his grades sunk low enough, he could end up not qualifying for next year's Inter High! He breathed in the scent of his tea, trying not to let his mind travel further down that path. Instead, he concentrated on the pleasant aroma steaming from his cup, while reminding himself that nothing had ever turned out as bad as he so often feared. But even if sitting here for longer had no effect on Furihata's grades, it didn't help what was, perhaps, the worse problem. He was sitting alone in the room with Akashi again.

Perhaps, this was some kind of strange test that the gods had thought up to make Furihata prove his strength -- or lack thereof. It reminded him of the Kobayashi Maru, the officer's leadership test in Star Trek, which presented the examinee with a no-win scenario in order to judge how a potential officer would perform under pressure. It was a dorky analogy, which Furihata would never share with anyone else, but it was essentially what he was faced with now. Nothing that he could do was the right thing to do. If he tried to talk to Akashi, he'd be distracting him from his important work. But, otherwise, he'd be rudely ignoring his presence. It was truly a no-win scenario. Maybe he could pretend he needed to use the restroom?

"Furihata."

Furihata felt his chest grow heavy, as the sound of Akashi's voice interrupted his attempt to strategize. "W-what?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"I need to thank you for something," Akashi said.

Furihata chuckled nervously. What would Akashi possibly want to thank him for? He hadn't done anything since entering Kuroko's apartment except drink some tea and act like a fool by stumbling and bumbling over nearly every word he spoke. He hoped that Akashi wasn't about to preemptively thank him for something and make him feel too guilty to say no. But just in case, he decided to prepare himself. He took a deep breath and chanted rhythmically in his head: _whatever he asks, you're going to say no._

"I was having trouble analyzing this scenario," Akashi continued, turning himself around to face Furihata, "but thanks to you, I think I have drawn a satisfactory conclusion."

Furihata's train of thought came to a halt as he contemplated Akashi's words, which were becoming more puzzling by the second. Not only could Furihata not think of any reason that Akashi would want to thank him, but in what alternate universe would he ever help Akashi figure out a strategic scenario that he couldn't figure out on his own? If Kuroko were to be believed, Akashi had never lost a game of shogi or chess in his life. Furihata, on the other hand, had trouble even completing a picross puzzle.

"I needed to determine the most likely outcome of this basketball game, but the strengths and weaknesses of each team were surprisingly well matched," Akashi went on. "The higher seeded team is, as you might suspect, the favorite to win the match.  Furthermore, many predict them to go far in the tournament on the whole, since they had a dominant performance in one of the strongest conferences this year, winning the conference title by three games. The key to their success has been their powerful, high-tempo offense. Their players are extremely athletic, and nearly unstoppable in transition, which allows them to average 82 points-per-game.  Their opponent, on the other hand, plays their best basketball by slowing the game down and forcing the other team to value each and every possession. Their primary strengths are staying out of foul trouble and rarely turning the ball over. It's a fascinating matchup, as it's one in which both teams will try to impose their own will on the game. Whichever team is successful in controlling the pace will arise victorious."

"That's very interesting," Furihata responded, forcing back his nerves.  "But, I, uh, don't really understand what it has to do with me. At all."

"That is the point I am leading up to," Akashi replied. "It was simply necessary to explain the context first."

"Right, of course," Furihata chuckled, as though he had simply misspoken. It was better to laugh at himself than to offend Akashi, who clearly was in the midst of an entire speech. It wasn't as though Furihata minded listening to Akashi talk. Hearing him explain basketball was fascinating, actually. If becoming a CEO didn't work out, he could become a sports reporter, with that level of knowledge and delivery. But there was something else that drew Furihata in as well. Even though Akashi's explanation was so formal, it didn't feel stiff or rehearsed. In fact, Furihata could see the proverbial light in Akashi's eyes growing the further he went into detail about these two teams. He knew that basketball had, for a while, grown into more of a responsibility for Akashi than a passion. But there was no doubt about it now. Akashi loved basketball.

"The conventional wisdom is to pick the fast-paced team, in part, because they have a proven record, both this year and historically," Akashi explained. "The main assumption is that the more athletic players will be able to control the game, and the underdog team will find it too taxing to keep up. I was tempted by this theory, myself -- until I remembered the Winter Cup semifinal between Kaijou and Seirin."

"Oh, I see!" Furihata interjected, stepping out of his chair and walking over to join Akashi at the table, "Because Kaijou plays an up-tempo offense, and Seirin was the underdog."

"Exactly," Akashi responded with a nod.

"But, it doesn't quite match up, does it?" Furihata asked, as he knelt down at Akashi's side. "Seirin also plays a 'run-and-gun' offense -- not a slow paced one. Actually, in our first practice match with Kaijou, we won 100-98."

"True," Akashi replied, "but I suspect Kaijou underestimated your team during that first practice match. Not to mention there was an element of surprise from Kuroko's ability which didn't exist during the rematch. Overall, Kaijou are the more athletic team, especially when Kise is able to execute his 'perfect copy.' When both teams were playing at Kaijou's pace during the Winter Cup, Seirin feel behind. So, what did your coach do then?"

"Well…" Furihata began, thinking back on the moment in the semifinal when Seirin looked out of sorts, and Kaijou appeared to be taking over the game. Because of a string of turnovers, Riko had decided to pull Izuki out of the game and… Suddenly, Furihata began to feel his face grow very warm. Unable to say anything, he pointed at himself, much as he had done when Riko had asked him to enter in Izuki's place.

Akashi nodded. "She put you in because you were able to control the pace of the game and avoid turning the ball over. Even though you had no experience on the court, you are a good ball handler, observant, and smart -- if also somewhat cautious. It didn't matter that you hadn't yet developed to the skill level of Kasamatsu, or Kaijou's other regulars. Your ability to read the situation as the point guard and effectively lead your team was the crucial moment which turned that game around."

Furihata looked away towards the ground, then back to Akashi, his eyes wide. For a moment, he felt lightness in his chest, as his pulse rose and he stared into Akashi's red eyes, awestruck. But as he remembered to breathe, he diverted his eyes once more, feeling his chest tighten under the weight of reality's crushing grip. Akashi couldn't possibly be speaking the truth -- even though Furihata had never known him to lie. Perhaps he had misread the situation, interpreting Furihata's lucky breaks in that game as something planned and calculated. Akashi did everything so deliberately -- did he understand that sometimes good things happened by pure chance? It was almost insulting to hear Akashi heap so much praise on him. What was he trying to prove? Did he feel guilty about the fact that Furihata was still so nervous around him? Had Furihata brought all this unnecessary complimenting upon himself? And yet, looking back into Akashi's eyes, he wanted to believe that some of it was true. Maybe not even that he was good at basketball, but that someone of Akashi's stature could look at him and be inspired. Too bad Furihata would never be able to hide the truth of the matter for long.

"I know you probably don't believe me," Akashi said, suddenly, as though he had heard Furihata's thoughts. Furihata wondered sometimes if Akashi could use the Emperor Eye to see into people's minds, or he could simply read people and intuit their feelings, the same way he could read the x's and o's of his opponents' lineups and leave them defenseless.

"Well, I didn't really know what I was doing in that game," Furihata replied with a soft but frustrated tone. "It was all just sort of luck."

"There's a funny thing in sports, called instinct," Akashi replied. "It may feel like luck, but it's more predictable-- and related to a player's potential. As captain, it is important for me to understand the instincts of my teammates and discover ways to help them reach that potential. It would serve neither my team nor my teammates to flatter them.  Saying that your athleticism has no bearing on your effectiveness at setting the pace as point guard is hardly an exaggeration. You are a smart player -- you understand how basketball is played and how to spot safe openings in the defense. Don't take it as a compliment, if you do not wish to. It is an observation."

"I guess," Furihata said. He sighed. He had to admit that when put like this, it sounded convincing. After all, Riko had chosen to play him against Kaijou because he had cautious instincts. She was too good of a coach to have sent him in if he was completely unpredictable. But Akashi made it sound so grand when in reality, it all boiled down to Furihata's cowardice. Perhaps he knew that, but was just so assured of his abilities as a captain that he thought he could turn even the worst or most minor of instincts into an advantage? 

"You don't have to believe me," Akashi replied. "But I will say that I was thinking about this for my own purposes. I was not meaning to think about your skills, yet I am grateful that I did. In the end, I decided to pick the upset for this match, after remembering your performance. If my gamble pays off, it could put me at a distinct advantage in the rankings."

Picks, upsets, gambles, rankings -- none of what Akashi was saying made any sense to Furihata. Who were these basketball teams, and why was picking between them so important? His eyebrows narrowed as he looked intently at Akashi, who was staring back down at the piece of paper on the table. Furihata needed to understand what Akashi was doing. Perhaps if he were Akashi, he'd be able to figure out what other people were doing through logical deduction. But Furihata certainly wasn't going to figure it on his own. There was only one way.

 "If you don't mind my asking," Furihata said, breathing in deeply, "what exactly are you doing?"

Akashi looked up, his eyes widening. He sat silently, his cheeks slowly becoming tinted by a light shade of pink. "I suppose I forgot to mention it," he replied.

Furihata's own eyes widened. Akashi still sounded poised, but Furihata had never seen him appear so flustered…or so relatable.

Akashi cleared his throat, as he blinked back his flustered expression. "So, Furihata," he continued, cool, collected, and showing no signs of his momentary lapse in composure. "Have you ever heard of the NCAA tournament?"

"It's an American tournament, right?" Furihata asked, with slight hesitation.

"Yes," Akashi replied, "It's the championship tournament for American college basketball. How it works is that each college is part of a conference of schools, and each of these conferences holds its own tournament at the end of the season. The winners of each tournament, plus several other teams with strong records receiving at-large bids, are seeded 1-12 in one of four regions, making up the four corners of the bracket. From there, it's a single-elimination tournament. Because of the single-elimination bracket format, it's known for unpredictable upsets and it tends to emphasize the importance of match-ups between teams with contrasting styles of play. It has become a tradition in the States to fill out brackets for the tournament, predicting which teams will win in each round, and compete against friends or co-workers to see who has the best picks."

Furihata scooted closer to the table and peered over at the paper which Akashi had been eyeing so keenly. Sure enough, the entire page was covered by a tournament bracket, and Akashi had been writing the names of his picks in crisp, roman-letter print on the lines. Furihata's eyes widened, his jaw dropping slightly. "So, this is what you've been working on this whole time, Akashi-kun?" he asked.

"Yes," Akashi replied. "All of my former teammates and I were challenged to fill out a bracket by Kagami. Apparently he and Yosen's Tatsuya-san used to compete against each other every year when they lived in America. Now he wants to prove that he can defeat the Generation of Miracles 'in all aspects of basketball.' Of course, I cannot be fooled into thinking that he isn't aware of his distinct advantage, having lived in the States for years. But I've researched all of the teams quite thoroughly."

"I see," Furihata said. This wasn't a pastime for Akashi at all. He had been directly challenged by Kagami, who had defeated him in the Winter Cup. He probably felt like losing to him twice in a row would disgrace his reputation. "So this is a matter of pride?" he asked, to confirm his conclusion.

"Not especially," Akashi replied, "though I certainly aim to win, as I always do."  Furihata jerked back, his jaw falling wider this time. "As I said, the tournament is bound to be full of surprises, due to the very nature of its format. Surely, having played for Seirin, you understand. It didn’t matter if you won a game by one point or one hundred. You could defeat a stronger opponent simply by winning a single game. There is a reason why the NBA uses a playoff system to crown its champion, as opposed to a single-elimination tournament. So to treat the NCAA tournament bracket as a true test of basketball knowledge would be, in my view, a mistake. But it's still quite fun."

Furihata stared at Akashi, too stunned by his answer to try and re-conceptualize the situation in his head. His shocked and awe-struck expression quickly morphed into one of panic; however, as Akashi focused his red eyes intently on him, probably in response to his rude staring.

"You look confused, Furihata," Akashi said. "Did I not explain the tournament clearly? Or do you simply not take me as a gambling man? I assure you, the prize for winning is only bragging rights."

"N-no, that's not it," Furihata muttered in reply, averting his eyes as his cheeks became heated once more. "I, uh, just thought that you were doing something for school, or your father's company, or something. You know. Because you seemed really…" He paused for a moment, trying to figure out the right word to describe that determined and unconquerable look in Akashi's eyes. Saying that Akashi looked 'intense' seemed a bit rude, although it definitely a better word choice than 'intimidating.' "Focused!" Furihata yelled, somewhat suddenly, then clearing his throat, repeated, "You seemed really focused."

Akashi chuckled, the trace of a smile gracing his lips. "I suppose I am rather invested in this, aren't I?"

Furihata nodded.

"I'm sorry if I made it seem that you needed to be quiet, or keep from disrupting me," Akashi apologized. "This is simply a diversion. But isn't it true that we take the things we love quite seriously?" He looked up at Furihata, as though expecting a reply.

"I guess," Furihata mumbled. Thinking about his own hobbies, he knew that Akashi was right. Furihata had spent hours visiting train stations, observing the arriving and departing trains while taking more detailed notes than he would for his classes. He had declined offers to spend time with friends after school in favor of volunteer jobs on the library committee. He had forgone sleep and set his alarm early just to be online when tickets to see his favorite bands went on sale. But it was different for him than it was for Akashi. Akashi's knowledge of basketball was incredible. Furihata could spend hours listening to him analyze every matchup on the bracket and never tire of it. Akashi's explanations were entrancing, not just because they were so intricate and well-delivered, but because of the way he lit up with each new detail. Whether or not he would have cared about American college basketball otherwise, he wanted to know more about it now. Akashi imbued it with his own passion, giving it some kind of radiance.

Furihata's hobbies had never been like that. He used to mention trainspotting to a few people he had once thought of as friends. They'd laughed at him, and told him it was a waste of time. His favorite books, CDs, lyrics, and poems were met with the same response or with boredom. No one cared -- his topics were always just a nuisance. He was just a nerd.

Akashi wasn't a nerd like he was. Sure, his explanations were a bit long-winded, and he had been so caught up in the details of the matchups that he had forgotten to explain what he was talking about in the first place. And maybe he was so focused on the bracket that Furihata had been scared by it, rather than entranced by it, at first. And maybe some people would find all of this information about basketball a bit boring. He felt his heart speed up suddenly, realization dawning on him. Maybe, if his name wasn't Akashi Seijuurou, if he wasn't the Student Council president and the captain of Rakuzan Basketball Club, he'd be just a nerd, like Furihata, rambling for hours about something that made him happy. Maybe his classmates would tell him to shut up about basketball. Maybe they'd tell him he was wasting his time on brackets when he should have been studying.

Perhaps this was all a product of Furihata's imagination. But as he looked into Akashi's eyes, which were full of suspense as they awaited his reply, Furihata felt himself sympathizing with Akashi for the first time. Was it too much to hope that maybe Akashi was looking at him expectantly because he wanted to know that Furihata understood how he felt? It was almost impossible to imagine that Akashi needed validation from anyone. Here was the player who told his teammates and opponents that he was absolute! If Akashi thought being a basketball nerd was fine, he probably didn't care if anyone else agreed or disagreed. But even if Akashi didn't care, Furihata did.

 "Y-you know, Akashi-kun," Furihata began, uncertain, but intent on trying. "I think that's p-pretty cool. H-how much you love basketball, I mean."

"Thank you," Akashi replied with a small smile.

"Like, you don't have to apologize for being so serious or anything," Furihata continued. He could feel himself blushing from embarrassment, but something compelled him to keep going. "I thought it was really interesting and I'd like to know more. If you want to talk about it, of course! You don't have to. If that makes sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," Akashi replied, his smile now bright and open. Furihata might have been imagining things again, but Akashi seemed to appreciate his comments. And, for perhaps the first time that afternoon, Furihata felt a sudden wave of relaxation wash over him.

"You know, Furihata," Akashi added, "Kagami told me that we could invite friends to join the bracket challenge as well. I could print you off a bracket, and tell you what I've learned about the different teams. Then you would be able to make your own picks, if you'd like."

"Well," Furihata chuckled. "I'm not sure I'd be very good at it." He hoped that Akashi might catch the hint and drop the issue. Otherwise, he might just end up agreeing to make a bracket, just because he couldn't say no to such a nice offer. But Furihata was also a coward, and he didn't want to do anything where he might embarrass himself. What if he made a bracket without picking a single team right? He tried to remind himself that if he picked mostly high-seeded teams, it was unlikely that this would happen. But it was still a possibility. Maybe he'd be the first person in history to never get a single pick right!

"I may take my picks very seriously," Akashi said, "but this game is as much about luck as it is about skill. I can tell you about the teams, but there are other strategies for picking as well. Some people pick the teams with the colors they like best. And others choose based on the team mascots."

"Does that actually work?" Furihata asked.

"Sometimes it does," Akashi replied. "Though the best strategy is most likely to use your knowledge if you are confident about your pick, and to guess randomly when the matchup seems close. I am simply confident in all my picks."

Somehow, seeing Akashi in a new light made his boastful statement seem a little less threatening. It was actually almost funny, as though it were a strange sort of inside joke. Not that Furihata would laugh. He wasn't quite that comfortable with Akashi yet. But for once, he wasn't trembling in fear of messing up in front of him.

"I can give you an example of the mascots," Akashi said, pointing to a line on the bracket. Furihata leaned over, to follow along. "Many of the mascots are animals. For example, Wisconsin here is the Badgers," Akashi explained. "Clemson is the Tigers, and Michigan is the Wolverines."

"So some people decide based on their favorite one?" Furihata asked.

"That, or which mascot they believe would win in a fight," Akashi replied. "Not all of them are animals, though. For example, Purdue is the Boilermakers," he continued, moving his finger underneath Purdue's name on the bracket. "So, not an animal, but the workers who produce steel fabrications."

"Of course!" Furihata replied. "Back when trains were all steam engines, boilermakers used to build and repair locomotives. They needed a lot of training, though, so, I wonder if the school started out as a vocational or an engineering school. It would be interesting to look up. I bet there were probably a lot of trains or factories around the university as well! Although, to be honest, I don't know too much about American trains from that time..." He stopped talking and snapped his mouth shut. He hadn't meant to start talking about trains. Just because Akashi was a basketball nerd didn't make it appropriate for _him_ to act like a dork. Akashi probably didn't care at all.

"Ah, so you like trains, Furihata?" Akashi asked.

Furihata felt his heart race. This was exactly the conversation he didn't want to have. Yet, he couldn't refuse to answer Akashi's question either. "Uh, yeah, I guess," he replied. "A little bit."

"Are you a trainspotter or do you collect models?" Akashi asked. "I'm not especially well-versed in trains, I admit, aside from the business and political aspects. But I have always found transportation quite fascinating, if you don't mind entertaining my curiosity a bit."

"W-well," Furihata began with a nervous smile, "I do a bit of both. I don't have a lot of models, because they're pretty expensive. But sometimes I save my money, or buy them secondhand. I probably do more trainspotting; I have a journal where I write observations…and stuff." He stopped, realizing that he was beginning to go on a tangent, and laughed halfheartedly. Akashi was most likely entertaining his fascination with trains just to be polite. He shouldn't go into it too much, or he might ruin the surprisingly pleasant conversation which they had going.

"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind showing the journal to me sometime?" Akashi asked. "I'm curious."

Furihata stared at Akashi blankly. He was just being polite. Furihata was sure of it. Akashi had been trained since birth to be charming and courteous, in preparation for becoming a successful CEO. But, Akashi's eyes seemed so focused on him, bright with enthusiasm, not unlike when he spoke about basketball.  

"Uh, sure," Furihata agreed. "I guess I can." Akashi smiled, and Furihata felt his pulse race faster.

"Well, returning to the subject," Akashi said, "would you like to fill out a bracket, Furihata? Don't feel as though you are obligated to. But the offer stands."

Furihata looked down at Akashi's bracket, then back up at Akashi. He nodded.

"Yes," Furihata answered with a smile. And this time, he didn't regret his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> "JBL" stands for the Japan Basketball League, which was the top-flight Japanese professional basketball league prior to 2013, when it was replaced by the National Baketball League (NBL). This fic is set in 2009, under the assumption that the KnB canon occurred in 2008. 
> 
> To answer Furihata's unanswered musing -- Purdue University did, indeed, begin as an industrial school, originally specializing in engineering, agriculture, and pharmacy. For decades, the university had the highest undergraduate engineering enrollment in the United States. Furthermore, the Corliss steam engine, one of the most efficient steam engines of the time, was tested in facilities at Purdue.
> 
> As a side note: The weakness of the 2-3 zone is apparently one of my favorite basketball strategies to write about, since I also mention it in an Akashi-centric fic I will be posting soon. This is probably because it strikes a good balance between being a very technical strategy, but one that's still fairly simple to understand, for anyone not as familiar with the sport. Just a funny observation!  
> Thank you for reading!


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